


Broken Korean (And Fixed Again)

by sunsetglow (suchfun)



Category: 2PM
Genre: AU, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-01
Updated: 2014-02-01
Packaged: 2018-01-10 03:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1154128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suchfun/pseuds/sunsetglow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He almost isn't admitted, because it's halfway through a term and everyone is worried he won't catch up, and for a brief period of time things are looking good, but the teacher is also Jay's mother's friend, and he pulls special strings. Jay has never been so depressed that his parents have connections in low places.</p><p>So, Jay becomes Jaebum and his teacher becomes seonsaengnim and hello becomes annyeonghaseyo and his weekends suddenly become a whole lot bleaker.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Korean (And Fixed Again)

**Author's Note:**

> Set around the time of teenage-angst-ridden, MySpace Jay. Also, this would be riddled with too-long sentences, commas, and the misuse of the word 'lay' if not for [bek](http://archiveofourown.org/users/bek).
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://morago.livejournal.com/2646.html) in June 2010.

Jay has never liked Korean. He doesn't like the sounds it makes, the spitting and hocking and hissing. He doesn't like the endless honorifics, or how polite he always has to be, or how there are as many _ways_ to count as _things_ to count, or the way all the squiggles look the same, but then they're rotated and smooshed together to mean something different.

His parents speak it at home sometimes, and they encourage Jay and his brother to do the same, but it's not like either of them know it, or even want to. It's just Jehan is much better at feigning interest than Jay is, picking up a few key phrases to make it sound like he knows a lot more than he does.

Thankfully for Jay, though, his parents don’t really seem to care about their sons’ lack of interest in their heritage. They’re cool like that, and they do everything they can to help their boys integrate fully into American society, so instead of Korean lessons, Jay plays basketball, he works out, and he b-boys.

He eats hamburgers, he doesn't bow, he wears his shoes inside and whenever his weird grandma (not his halmoni, never his halmoni) asks him in Korean how he is, he replies in English. She always berates him, calling him "pabo", but he doesn't listen, too involved in his newest technological gadget or teenaged drama to care.

+

When she dies, it's all traditional, upstanding towers of white flowers and photos in frames and wailing and he doesn't know whether to feel sad or annoyed, because it seems it's just the motivation his parents needed to send him to Korean school on weekends.

+

He almost isn't admitted, because it's halfway through a term and everyone is worried he won't catch up, and for a brief period of time things are looking good, but the teacher is also Jay's mother's friend, and he pulls special strings. Jay has never been so depressed that his parents have connections in low places.

So, Jay becomes Jaebum and his teacher becomes seonsaengnim and hello becomes annyeonghaseyo and his weekends suddenly become a whole lot bleaker.

+

There are a total of eleven people in the Saturday morning Korean class, and they all look like douches. The guys are skinny, nerdy Asians, the kinds who want to be _doctors_ and who do well at school _on purpose_ , and the girls aren't even hot, dashing his hopes of a weekend hook-up.

Jinyoung-seonsaengnim introduces him to the class, and he mumbles his name and a few random words before moving to a seat right up the back, intent on paying no attention and certainly putting in no effort.

The guy sitting next to him turns in his seat, offering a goofy smile, and Jay finds himself momentarily disturbed by his comically large facial features.

"Yo," the guy says, like he's trying to be gangsta, "hey, man, I'm Taecyeon."

"'Sup," Jay says. He turns away, quite ready to finish the conversation, but Taecyeon frowns, seemingly unable to let it go. 

"So, 'Jay'. That doesn't sound very Korean."

"Not my problem."

But Taecyeon finds out his full name from the exercise books his mom labelled for him, and he emphasises the 'bum' part every time they interact for the rest of the lesson. Jay tries hard not to smack him in the face.

+

Jay skips class the next week.

Of course, his parents find out, and as well as revoking all of his computer-related rights, his mother becomes his chaperone, but come on.

Like he'll let that stop him.

+

Jay waits until his mother's car has turned all the way around the corner before grinning, hiking his backpack further up his shoulder, and turning away, ready to make a run for it.

What he doesn't take into consideration is the annoying guy from last lesson standing behind him. His arms are crossed and he seems much taller than Jay remembers, brows raised over the frames of his dorky glasses in a disapproving glare. Jay almost walks into him before jumping back.

"Where are you going?" Taecyeon or whoever asks, tilting his head.

"The fuck, man!" he snarls. "I'm walking here!"

"You're..." His lips curl in amusement. "Did you actually just say that?"

Jay feels the tips of his ears begin to burn, and he knows, right now, that he hates this guy, even more than last time. "What's your problem?"

"No problem," he says calmly. "I just asked you a question. What's wrong with that?"

"Everything, when it's a stupid fucking question." He turns to move around Taecyeon, but Taecyeon moves too, still blocking his way. "Seriously, what is your deal?"

"Where were you last week? You know your parents have to pay for the lesson regardless of whether you showed, right?"

"Like I give a rat's ass about my—"

"Jinyoung-seonsaengnim!" Taecyeon interrupts infuriatingly, looking over Jay's head. "Look who I found!" He spins Jay around to face their harassed-looking teacher like he weighs nothing at all. Jay almost kicks him in the balls. "I guess he missed us."

"I very much doubt that, Taecyeon-sshi," their teacher answers, "but thank you, anyway." He turns to Jay, raising an eyebrow challengingly. "Will you be coming to class this week, Jaebum-sshi?"

"Jay," he corrects, but it's not like he has much of a choice when Jinyoung's looking at him like that, and Taecyeon is dragging him by the arm.

+

Taecyeon is far more advanced than him, so Jinyoung-seonsaengnim immediately makes him Jay's tutor, muttering a few instructions and ushering them into a corner, quite happy to let someone else take over the job of handling the problem pupil.

Jay narrows his eyes and slumps in his chair, determined not to say even one word, but Taecyeon just shrugs before pulling out his iPod and sticking his headphones into his mutant ears. 

Jay's eyes widen as he takes in this new development, and he stares at the shiny iPod, practically salivating, because that is the next generation model he's been coveting for months, and it isn't even supposed to be out until next year.

"Where did you get that?" he asks, immediately forgetting his no-talking pledge and reaching out to touch it. Taecyeon pulls back, but otherwise ignores him. "Hey," he says, kicking him in the shin, "I'm talking to you. Where did you get it?"

Still nothing.

"Yah!" he hisses, forced to switch to his pathetic supply of Korean words. "Where?"

Taecyeon looks up, innocence etched into his huge features. "Who, me? This? I know a guy who knows a guy." He turns back to it, running his thumb smoothly over the wheel, the melodic little clicking sounds making Jay twitch.

"Can I touch it?" he asks through gritted teeth, restraining the urge to just grab it and make a run for it.

This time, Taecyeon stays staring at the small screen. "Can you try holding a two-minute conversation with me?"

"Fuck you," Jay says, but then Taecyeon tilts the iPod so it catches the sun, and its beauty dazzles him into compliance. "Yes."

+

After a few more lessons, Jay realises that Korean isn't actually all that bad. It's slow going, but Taecyeon has his back, and it's pretty dope being able to understand more of his parents' 'secret' conversations at home—he finds out some very interesting tidbits about his brother that will come in handy for blackmailing purposes later. Still, it doesn't stop him from complaining about it, particularly since his crew is giving him a hard time about all the extra schooling. 

Once, on MySpace, after a particular crack about his 'huge fucking douchey lameness' from Junior, he almost publishes a comment mentioning how whack he thinks Korea is, how gay it is, how much he hates it all, but then he thinks of Taecyeon, thinks of his halmoni, and thinks of his mom's bourgeoning internet skills, and deletes it right before hitting post.

+

"Just call me Jay already," he orders, the millionth time Taecyeon calls him 'hyung'.

"Call me sunbae, then," Taecyeon counters, grinning, and Jay just wants to hit him—a perpetual feeling, it seems, whenever they spend time together.

"How about fuck off," he snarls, but Taecyeon just laughs.

Jay refuses to find his attitude even slightly endearing.

+

Taec—no, Taec _yeon_ , has a ridiculous amount of friends for someone in a once-a-week language school. It seems like almost every lesson he's introducing Jay to some new loser who's had the unfortunate fate of meeting him, and, even worse, he seems to think Jay will actually _care_ about Chansung from Italian 2C, Nichkhun from Thai 3A and two guys who Jay could swear are introduced as the Junas Brothers, both from English 2G.

Not only that, but he keeps introducing Jay to his actual, real-life friends, the ones who come and see him after classes, like Wooyoung and Seulong and Kwon, all also weird, nerd-freaks, encased in glasses and awkwardness.

He asks Jay about _his_ personal friends, too, wanting to know names and ages and quirks and if they have girlfriends and if he has a girlfriend and if he does, does she have any nice, Korean friends she could introduce Taecyeon to?

Frustratingly, Jay finds himself answering his questions, firstly to shut him up, but later because he discovers he actually _wants_ to talk, because all of his homies are often too self-obsessed to care about what's happening with him, and plus, caring is gay, anyway. It's cool to be able to discuss things, even if it is only once a week and it's in broken, awful Korean, and it's cool having someone to listen, even if all Taecyeon does is _correct_ his broken, awful Korean.

Not that he would ever let anyone know that.

+

Somewhere along the line, Jay doesn't even dread weekends anymore. He doesn't press snooze too many times on his alarm, he doesn't swear at his brother when he tries to get him up, he's capable of holding an actual conversation with his father at the breakfast table, and he thanks his mother for dropping him off.

When he enters the classroom, he bows to Jinyoung-seonsaengnim, he winks at the girls, he exchanges handshakes and fistbumps with the boys, he smiles at Taec as he slides into the seat next to him, and he gets out his books and places them neatly on the desk.

+

"I want to be famous," Taec says suddenly one Saturday, while they're on a break, lying in the shade at the hottest time of the day. Jay had just been contemplating challenging Doojoon to a rap battle, but is quite relieved when Taec continues being his usual, random self, because even though he's still bored, now it means he doesn't have to try and get up.

He snorts, because it's expected. "What for? Being the world's douchiest dork?"

"I just like the idea," Taec continues, "of being noticed."

Jay frowns. "You're a fucking weirdo."

"Yeah, and you can say that, Jaebum-ah," he teases, whacking Jay's leg, "because you _are_ noticed. Everyone knows you, everyone remembers you. Even though I've been here for years, do you know what people call me?" He rolls over onto his back, looking him in the eyes, and Jay knows him enough by now to tell that his smile is forced. "Jay's friend."

"Man, you have, like, a zillion friends! What the hell are you even talking about?"

Taec sits up and shakes his head, leaning forward to rest it against his drawn-up knees. "I dunno, man. Forget about it."

Jay would quite happily _not_ continue with this conversation, because talking about his _feelings_ has never been a specialty of his, but it's possible that Taec is now a good friend—he's not sure, but their relationship seems to be displaying all of the potential markers, if the in-jokes, play-fighting and faux-insults are anything to go by—and friends are supposed to help each other out when shit happens. 

Man, he wishes he'd challenged Doojoon to that battle.

Levering himself up, being careful not to touch Taec in any way lest it get any _more_ weird, he clears his throat and forces out, "You okay, man?"

"I'm… it's just…" He looks up, finally, something like sadness and determination in his eyes. "I hate to be a walking, talking cliché, but life is short, Jay. You gotta grab it by the balls, because one day, it won't be there."

"Because you'll be dead," he says, hoping he's doing a decent enough job of seeming like he's following Taec's logic.

"Yeah," he says softly, "because you'll be dead. And I just… I want things, man, I wanna _do_ things, I wanna be… I wanna be _bright_."

They are quiet for a moment, but Jaebum is very uncomfortable with this deep shit and he can't help a laugh, and before he can filter himself he says, "That'll be hard, for you."

Taec stays silent, and Jay feels guilty.

+

Jay is at church a few Sundays later when he realises that one of the kids in the choir is Junho from language school. When he's on stage he looks kinda like that Korean singer his mom's in love with, and he actually has a pretty sick voice—they even let him do a solo. Who knew the kid had it in him.

When they finish up and break for hot drinks and biscuits, Jay sticks close to his mother and tries to avoid anyone he might know, but he just ends up annoying her. She sends him off to get her more coffee, and all of his hard work is undone because he runs into Junho in the kitchen of the rented hall, anyway. The kid must have supersonic hearing or something, too, because he looks up as soon as Jay enters and now he can't even pretend he hasn't seen him.

Junho grins so wide his eyes disappear, creeping Jay out a little. "Hi!" he says, in pretty good English, which is surprising, since the last time Jay met him he introduced himself as 'English 2G'. "Jaebum, right?"

"Jay," he corrects, left with no choice but to amble in and set his mother's mug on the bench. "Any water left?"

"Used it, sorry." He grins again, stirring two cups simultaneously, and Jay fills up the kettle and turns it on.

"So," Junho says conversationally, once Jay has made it clear that he's not going to make the effort, "how's Taecyeon?"

Jay frowns. "Taec?"

"Yeah. He wasn't in class yesterday."

"Neither was I, I had a b-boy comp." He frowns. "He really wasn't there?" Taec always shows to Korean class, _always_ , even though his language skills are about on par with their seonsaengnim by now. Jay suspects that even if there was a zombie apocalypse, Taec would _still_ show up for class, ballpoint pen and stupid grin at the ready.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"I… I dunno. A while ago, I guess."

"I see." Junho's face creases with worry, and Jay can't help but feel irritated. Taec's a big boy, it's not like he needs everyone fussing and worrying about him. He probably just had homework, or something—he's square enough to worry about that shit. "Do you have his phone number, then?" Junho continues. "I'd like to make sure he's okay."

Jay makes a show of getting out his phone and checking, but by now they both know that he doesn't have it. He distinctly remembers Taec asking for his and then offering his own in return, but Jehan had changed the language on his phone to Japanese, that day, and he hadn't figured out where to change it back, and then once he had, he hadn't bothered to ask Taec again.

"Aren't you his friend?" Junho asks softly.

"We see each other once a week, it's not like we're BFFs, man." He's being a dick, and he knows it, but that kicked-puppy look on Junho's face is pretty much intolerable.

The kettle hasn't even finished boiling, but he grabs it and sloshes water into his mom's mug anyway, dumping coffee in after and not even bothering to stir it before picking it up.

"That's not how Taec sees it," Junho calls after him as he leaves, but Jay doesn't turn back.

+

Taec still doesn't show the next week. What's left of Jay's admittedly small Hangul vocabulary finally dies a sad death, and practically everyone in the school asks him about Taec—if he's okay, how he's been acting weird lately, and is everything all right because they miss him.

Jay's too busy being pissed off at everyone to share their worry, but he hadn't even noticed anything was that different with Taec, and that stays at the back of his mind for days.

+

It's completely by accident that Jay sees him again, coming home from a night out with his boys, where everyone else scored but him. He's in a bad mood, cursing whoever's idea it was to go to a party hosted by the girls' basketball team, but when he sees a tall, skinny dude with a baseball cap and hunched shoulders across the street, he knows instantly it's Taec. He sighs and does his best to ignore the relief, and, scarily, _happiness_ , running through him, but it's _Taec_ which means he's not dead which means he can come back to classes which means everyone else can stop giving Jay shit.

"Taec! Hey, Taec!" he shouts, darting through the traffic, trying to keep him in his sights—not that it's really that difficult, considering the horrific orange-and-yellow ensemble he's wearing—and nearly getting run over in the process, but finally catching up. "Yo, Taec," he puffs, yanking on his shoulder, turning him around.

Taec's eyes are glazed and he looks at Jay with the smallest hint of recognition. It's not like Jay expects him to light up at the mere sight of him, or whatever, but a bit of appreciation would be nice. 

"Hey," Taec says, sounding way tired. "I'm walking here."

Jay grins at that, slapping him on the shoulder. "'Sup, man, haven't seen you in a long time."

"Yeah, I've been busy."

And… that's it. Taec, who he can usually never get to shut up, fobs him off with a total of four words. "Yeah?" He grits his teeth, forcing joviality for a while longer. "With what?"

"I dunno, stuff, Jay." He runs a hand over his face, before jamming it into his pocket. "What do you want?"

"Nothing, it's just…" And he's got nothing else. Absolutely nothing. They're standing in the middle of the footpath, endless people pushing by them, chattering and laughing and actually _conversing_ , and Jay never has this problem with anyone but Taec's hostility is confusing and he's not sure what he's done that's so wrong and _he doesn't know what to say_. Taec rolls his eyes and turns to leave, but Jay panics, blurting out, "You know your parents still gotta pay for those classes, right?"

"Wise words," he acknowledges, but he doesn't smile. It makes Jay uneasy.

"I wanted to call," he says uncomfortably, then adds, because he can't really lie to someone he hasn't seen in weeks, "well, Junho wanted me to call, but I didn't have your number."

"I changed my number, anyway," Taec says bluntly.

"Well, gimme your new one, then," Jay persists, pulling out his phone, starting to punch in Taec's name—

"Why, so you can not call me some more?"

Jay blinks. What… the fuck? What is with Taec's _attitude_? So Jay didn't call, so what, there's nothing stopping Taec from calling _him_ , if he wants to talk so damn much. "Hey, man," he says, trying to stay calm. "I'm not good at this shit, but I'm trying, so what is your problem? What did I do?"

Taec's face immediately falls, his features slackening. "Sorry, Jay. I just… sorry. Here." He takes the phone and keys in his number. "Look, I have to go, now. I need to… anyway, you have my number. Sorry again. For… being such an asshole." And he presses the phone back into Jay's hand, hesitating slightly, brushing his fingertips over Jay's wrist in further apology, before giving a small smile and stepping back, letting himself be carried away by the crowd.

Jay checks his phone as a precaution, and, seeing Taec's entry under the name _Taec-bbal_ , snorts loudly.

+

Jay doesn't call him the next day, though, or the day after that—desperation is not one of his qualities, in any form or fashion. Once, he tries to write a text but he can't decide whether he should start it with _hey_ , _yo_ or _sup_ , so he doesn't send it at all.

In fact, as days go by, he just finds himself getting more and more irritated. Fuck Taec, man. Fuck him. Jay doesn't need his moody, PMS shit. He's got enough of his own crap going on.

+

"Oh shit," Jay breathes, as he receives the results of his practice quiz. "Shit shit shit." There is a large, red _47_ where his pass should be, Jinyoung-seonsaengnim is shaking his head disappointedly and Jay would punch his ugly gorilla face in if he wasn't so screwed.

"Try practicing that sentence in Hangul, Jaebum-sshi. Perhaps it would help."

He continues on, passing out more results. Jay stares at his quiz, feeling nauseous.

+

It takes until Thursday afternoon before Jay finally finds the courage to show his mom the quiz, and once he does, she just looks at him sadly asks him if he tried. He can't say that he did, and he can't lie to his mom, and the disappointed look on her face is worse than any lecture or form of punishment. She nods and sighs and it makes him angry, even though he has no right to be, even though he's the one being the brat, and even though he knows she's right, he yells at her and storms out. He jogs around the block in an effort to calm down, but it doesn't work—the tension and the stress and the anger and the guilt build and build and he needs to lash out or he'll explode, and really, there's only one person to blame.

Jolting to a halt at a bus stop and yanking his phone out of his pocket, he opens his contacts, scrolls down and presses _call_. He waits, it goes to voicemail after seven rings, so he tries again. On his third try, Taec picks up.

"Fuck you, man," Jay hisses immediately, not giving Taec a chance to speak. "Fuck you, I don't need this, and I don't need you, except for the fact that I do cause I'm flunking fucking class and it's all your fault, you fucking dick. If Sir fucking Jinyoung of Shitville doesn't tell my mom I passed, I'm fucked, you piece of—"

"I'm moving to Korea."

The words seem to echo ominously through the speaker and Jay stumbles over his sentence, shocked into silence and wishing to hell he wasn't, because fuck, could he _be_ any more of a girl? "You're… what?"

"My mom… she… she's…" He chokes up and Jay imagines all sorts of horrible possibilities, his mind whirling with them until Taec clears his throat and continues, "Anyway, my dad got a new job and I can't stay here so I'm… I'm going. Really soon."

Jay leans against the wall of the bus shelter, the cool glass biting into his back and shoulders as he processes everything, thinking _fuck fuck fuck_ but saying nothing.

"Come see me off," Taec murmurs eventually, his tone gentle and teasing, so familiar, and Jay hadn't even realized he'd missed it. "Come to the airport with me."

"Fuck off," Jay snaps, "this isn't a fucking movie."

"Okay, okay." Taec laughs, and it's like he's right there next to him, trying to hold a handstand for as long as Jay and failing, or trying to swagger sexily like Jay and failing, or trying to teach Jay about diphthongs and failing. "We'll have one last study session, then. I'll help you pass."

"Like fucking hell, you will, the test is next class."

"Come over, then."

"Like fucking hell, I will."

+

If Jay's house is about being as American as possible, then Taec's is completely the opposite. It's practically a temple, or one of those traditional old houses in one of those _sageuk_ dramas their moms always watch, as Korean as possible, both in design and trimmings. It's pretty cool, in an old-school way, but Jay wore completely the wrong shoes today and has to spend like a whole minute manoeuvring them off his feet. He finally peels them off, shoving them into the wooden shoe-holder stowed neatly next to the door, and knocks three times. There are footsteps, and it opens, and Taec-in-twenty-five-years opens the door.

"Annyeonghaseyo, chonen Park Jaebum-imnida," he introduces himself, bowing low in the doorway, and Taec's father is instantly charmed.

"Taecyeon-ah," he calls, "your friend is here." He opens the door wider and ushers Jay inside. "He's just in the shower. You're from Korean school, right? Would you like a drink, something to eat?"

"Yeah, languages aren't exactly my thing, but Taec's practically a genius, so. And, uh, a Coke?"

"Well, I'm just glad my son could help." Taec's dad leads him into the kitchen, opening the fridge to hand him a can. "I'm sorry if he's been rather… unpredictable of late. We've been…" His smile falters a little, and Jay takes the opportunity to cut him off.

"No biggie. Taec's a bro." He shrugs, and it's not just something he's saying to a parent. Inexplicably, somewhere along the line, he and Taec _did_ get close. He doesn't know when, or even how— _especially_ how, because Taec is annoying as fuck—but it happened, and now he has to deal with the consequences.

"Well. Thank you for being so understanding, Jaebum-sshi. It's good that Taecyeon has a friend like you." He puts a hand on Jay's shoulder, smile strong again, before gently nudging him down the hallway. "You can wait for him in his room. It's the one on the end."

+

Jay has never seen a messier room in his life, and it's such a huge contrast to the rest of the almost-empty house that it makes him shudder. It's not just the half-full luggage spread across the floor—it's the clothes piled on the desk, the boxes stacked in the corner, the falling-down posters on the wall, the full rubbish bags in a pile by the door, and, oh God, Jay is going to die today, he just knows he is. Hazmat suits should be mandatory in this pigsty. 

He picks his way through the room, deciding to remain standing for the time being, and as he waits, he finds himself drawn to a photo on Taec's wall of his family—Taec on the right, his dad on the left, his sister between them, his mom sitting down in front. Despite the presence of Taec's surprisingly hot sister, Jay can't help but stare at Taec's mom. She's beautiful, with a sparkle in her eye and teeth like Taec's, except they actually suit her instead of making her look scary.

He still hasn't moved several moments later, but when he hears footsteps in the hall he bolts over to the bed, the only available clear space in a room full of hazards, and flops down, innocent and unmoving.

+

Somehow, Taec always manages to explain things to him in a way he understands, and it seems so obvious and easy it makes Jay feel stupid for not getting it earlier. They bicker, of course, because they can't not, but in the space of approximately three hours with Taec Jay feels like he's learnt a million times more than in all his official lessons combined.

They're taking a break, now, thankfully, and Taec is sitting against the headboard, bopping his head along to some prissy girl band and reading a manga while Jay lies, spread-eagled, eyes closed, resting his over-used brain.

Their silence is comfortable, but Jay soon gets bored and says, "Everyone asked about you." He rolls onto his side to face Taec, watching his eyebrows rise. "I'm not exaggerating, it got really fucking annoying. If you were any more popular you'd be voted president."

"Huh. I guess absence really _does_ make the heart grow fonder." Taec grins. "Worked on you, right?"

Jay shoves at his legs, hard, almost pushing him off the bed, but he just laughs, tossing his book on the floor and slithering downwards.

"Hey, yo, dude," Jay protests, alarm bells ringing, "there's no room!"

"It's _my_ bed, loser, stop being so gay." He waves Jay away and comes to a stop, settling on his back, arms crossed behind his head and eyes closed. Jay squirms as far away as possible before adopting the same position. 

"If I pass this test, my mom says she won't make me go back next year."

"Jessica will be devastated," Taec comments, sounding amused. "She has the hugest crush on you."

"Yeah, well, I _could_ tap that, but even I got standards."

Taec sighs loudly, faux-disappointedly, and there's a pause before he says, sounding very resigned, "They go to school on Saturdays in Korea."

" _What?_ " Jay bolts upright, feeling a certain breed of evil glee envelop his entire being. "You little bitch, you're so fucked!" And he laughs, loud and harsh, always the supportive friend.

"I'm not even gonna tell you the hours, either, because they _suck_ ," Taec adds once Jay stops laughing, but he's grinning, telling him these things on purpose.

"Just as well you're so smart, then, right?"

Taecyeon sits up, wide eyed, and asks reverently, "Was that just a… a _compliment_?"

"No, because by smart I mean a huge fucking nerd."

"You said smart, though!" He flutters his eyelashes, looking utterly ridiculous.

"Shut the fuck up." And Jay pushes him again, and Taec pushes back, and they're pushing each other and laughing some more, but Jay takes it upon himself to draw the line as Taec picks up the first pillow, before it gets way more gay than it already is.

+

Taec's flight leaves the same time as Jay has to take his test, so Saturday turns out to be a pretty shitty day, all up.

Just before Jinyoung-seonsaengnim passes out the tests, Jay sends Taec a text, hoping he won't have time to respond to it before he leaves.

_yo taec. b cool bro. thanx for evryting. stay reel n nail sum hot hangul chiks 4 me. Peace, jaeBUM. ^^_

Squaring his shoulders, Jay picks up his pencil and lets out a deep breath. He thinks he's ready, now.

But if he fails this test he's flying to fucking Korea to kick Taec's ass.


End file.
